


more projecting for ya

by disgusting_horny_bitch



Series: dbh is sad rn [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Has Issues, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne Whump, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Hurt No Comfort, I have issues lmao, I promise, I really don't like this therapist I"m changing once she screens me for ADHD, Yes it's more projection yay, fuck my parents seriously, it's very blatant now, they tried but wow did they fail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 15:22:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgusting_horny_bitch/pseuds/disgusting_horny_bitch
Summary: Damian has issues. Damian also doesn't like therapy. These two things are a problem.
Series: dbh is sad rn [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203653
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	more projecting for ya

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is based off of my first therapist and another one I recently started on. I’m giving her another chance, but based on how close her methods are to my first one I’m not expecting much. She’s brought back so many memories and I’m not sure I like any of them. So it’s time to write about it!
> 
> Almost all of this is projection. Like almost no Damian seeped in, apart from a few things being swapped out to make more sense for him instead of me. Yes I’ve headcanoned Damian as ND for a while. Yes I think he masks like me and it’s an issue because of how much he does it.

Damian doesn’t like his therapist. He doesn’t like the concept, doesn’t like feeling so vulnerable to a  _ stranger _ that just pushes and pushes and doesn’t understand. He doesn’t like how she wants him to describe how he’s feeling in solid terms. How she wants him to use useless grounding exercises, how she dismisses some of his concerns, how she wants him to say something more than ‘I don’t know’. He wishes she would stop asking what he wants to do. He wishes she would stop asking him to tell her about  _ why  _ he feels that way. He wouldn’t be here if he knew. 

He knows that the way he describes his emotions is unorthodox. He knows that. He knows that most people don’t describe the vague feeling of feeling bad as ‘related to the word malleable but not malleable itself’ or ‘a dark navy, with a surface that’s lukewarm, with a velvet-like texture, in the shape of silly putty that’s been squeezed, then smoothed out slightly’. He  _ knows  _ that. He knows that most people don’t have recurring abstract nightmares that terrify them for seemingly no reason. They’re  _ shapes _ . Why does he find them so scary?

He knows most people don’t imagine that within themselves is a void or that they don’t have to take a second to register that oh that’s them in the mirror. He knows that most people cry when they lose a family member or someone they care about. He knows that most people don’t get the urge to stab someone or the vivid, oh so _ fucking _ vivid, mental image of just that occurring. He knows that most people don’t have periods of time where they’re not sure they did something because they could have imagined doing it just that realistically. 

He knows most people don’t struggle to smile or struggle to like being touched or struggle to get the energy to see their friends. He knows that. 

That’s why he’s there. That’s why he needs help. He’s not like other people. He’s lost. So lost. And tired. 

She always asks how his week was. He always gives her some iteration of ‘fine’. She asks how he’s been feeling. It’s always numb. Always tired. Sometimes, and he doesn’t bother to tell her this, there’s a small sprinkle of anger, humor, sadness, the  _ normal _ emotions, during his week. It’s scarce though. And fleeting. It slips out of his fingers, like sand receding with the tide. 

Feeling…‘bad’ is a strange emotion. It’s not like feeling sad or angry or frustrated. It’s more neutral. It just feels low. 

She asks him to visualize where it is in his body. It feels disconnected from his body. He doesn’t tell her that. She doesn’t ask.

He wants to be frustrated with how none of this is getting anywhere, with how stupid everything she makes him do is. But he can’t. And he can’t change it.

His father wants him to function again. Damian wants that too. But he knows it’s not happening. Even taking care of himself is a struggle. He’s pathetic. 

There’s a lot his father expects from him. His father expects him to ‘pick up some skills’ to work on whatever’s going on with him. Damian would rather work on his trauma. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to either, if that makes sense. But if he did, if he was ready to, he couldn’t. 

At one point he wants to change therapists. His father wants him to try just one more session. He can’t find it within himself to protest. He never can. Not anymore. Maybe that’s why his father is worried. 

  
  


More and more it feels like he’s drifting through life. It’s monotonous. It’s tiring. It’s not something he likes. Not something he cares to leave either. He’s thought about it though. He’s thought about it for years. And he just can’t bring himself to care enough to do it. It’s somewhat ironic. 

Interacting with people is harder now. It’s less simple. There’s invisible expectations that he’s just supposed to  _ know _ and it’s so  _ exhausting _ . It didn’t used to be like this. There’s so many things that he just wants to go back to how he was doing them in the past. He knows he can’t. He thinks about it anyways.

He’s  _ meek _ . Why is he meek? What the fuck? He doesn’t want to go anywhere. He doesn’t want to leave the dark haven that is his room. He doesn’t want to interact with anyone, he doesn’t want to be seen by anyone, he doesn’t even want to  _ exist _ in the same room as anyone. What the fuck is wrong with him? Humans are supposed to be social creatures so what the fuck is this? His therapist keeps saying he’s lonely. She says there’s not a better word for it. He’s not lonely. Especially not when he feels like this. Damian just wants to be left  _ alone.  _ Is that so much to ask?

He just wants to be left alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally putting my issues out onto the internet anonymously is more therapeutic than therapy haha


End file.
